


Undone

by RandallsRedTie



Category: The Hour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-16
Updated: 2012-12-16
Packaged: 2017-11-21 07:50:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandallsRedTie/pseuds/RandallsRedTie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a short moment with Randall. Spoilers for 2.6</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undone

    When Lix was satisfied that Randall had calmed down enough to function she slipped quietly out of his office, but not before wiping her face with one of the spare handkerchiefs he kept in his desk. She knew he wouldn't want it back so she took it with her, having a feeling that she'd need it again, and soon. Randall sat in his chair and stared blankly out at his office, eyes red and puffy behind his glasses. The evidence of his grief was scattered all over the room. He wasn't sure how long he and Lix had been there together, trying to pull themselves back together. Long enough for the shadows to have grown long and the sun to begin to surrender to the oncoming night. His cigarette case and lighter had been thrown across the room in his fit of anguish so he got up to retrieve them. They'd landed with a pile of papers and folders. He picked them up, hands still shaking with grief and self-loathing. "If only I had stayed," he kept thinking to himself, repeating the phrase over and over in his mind like a mantra. He pulled a cigarette from the case and placed it in his lips, lit it and inhaled, deeply. Placed the case and lighter in his pocket. If he were still a drinking man he'd be on his third glass of whisky right now, body warming from the liquor, mind growing cloudy, chasing the pain away. He hadn't experienced grief like this since he'd stopped drinking. No amber anesthetic to soothe the pain, burn it away and cleanse the wound in his heart. Instead he did the only thing he knew to do, reorganize, put things back in their place. He found his ashtray where it had fallen and placed it on the leather chair, leaving the cigarette smoldering within. He shrugged out of his suit jacket, placed it on its hanger. He picked up the seemingly endless papers that had fallen like ashes around the room. His metal inbox tray was placed back on his desk and adjusted until it was just so, the papers then placed back in. Books picked up, stacked in order, his leather notebook and pen returned to its usual spot.  _Everything back in order._ Randall lit another cigarette and stood in the middle of the room, surveying, inhaling the smoke and releasing it. His gaze fell on the folder still on the round wooden table where Lix had sat, watching him as he gave over to his madness. He reached out, touched the cover, adjusted in until it was how he wanted it, how he needed it to be. He knew he'd never look at its contents again. He wouldn't need to. The words on the papers within were burned into his memory, never to fade. Walking back across the room he put his suit jacket back on, looked in the mirror to make sure his hair was in order, put himself back together. He stubbed out his cigarette, put his ashtray back on his desk where it belonged. He paused at the door, taking in a few deep breaths, his grief and heartache still very much close to the surface. When he was satisfied he opened his office door and walked out into the hallway. There was work to be done, and precious little time to do it. "Delays have dangerous ends," he muttered to himself. And dear God didn't he know it...


End file.
